


chaos for the fly

by RedShiloh



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Asexual Character, Asexual Jughead, M/M, Manipulation, Statutory Rape, death/suicide ideation, jughead has secrets too, non consensual drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:49:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9626987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedShiloh/pseuds/RedShiloh
Summary: Jughead and Archie finally go on their road trip. Along the way truths are told, secrets are shared, confessions are made. The only problem with road trips is eventually you have to go home.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jessicamiriamdrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessicamiriamdrew/gifts).



> This fic is canon compliant up until episode 2. Chances are by the time episode 3 comes out it's already gonna be heading way alternate canonverse but hey ho let's go.
> 
> Dedicated to Bonniw because we're in this trash show together.
> 
> PS: I've tagged this fic as noncon because I wanted to warn people. I don't have plans to totally Go There, but there's definitely going to be skeevy moments (Jason is definitely portrayed as a predator in this fic) and I'd far rather warn people than have someone stumble on something that hurts them. Plus the whole Grundy thing which I don't care how much the show tries to tell me is ~sexy and forbidden~ that shit has consensual issues out the wazoo.

When Archie imagined confessing he thought he'd feel some sense of relief. Like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. No more secrets, no more lies, finally he was free.

In reality, it wasn't like that at all.

It felt like he sat in that little room in the precinct for hours going over what he'd heard. The officer questioning him did so with suspicion, firing a constant stream of questions at him and making him repeat himself over and over like if he was made to say it enough times he'd trip up and confess he was guilty.

It never occurred to Archie that confessing would make him a suspect.

He tried to downplay Ms. Grundy's part in it, at the beginning he even tried to avoid saying her name altogether. _'I was just out with some girl.' 'Which girl?' 'Oh you know...' 'No, Mr. Andrews, I don't know, care to inform me?'_ In the end he had no choice, the officer weedled it out of him like sucking poison out a wound. After that the questioning went a whole different direction that Archie didn't like one bit. He found himself answering invasive questions, demanding intimate details that made him feel so, so wrong. If he thought it'd been bad before this was something else.

When did you begin relations with your teacher? Who made the first move? How long?

Over the summer, being with Geraldine had made him feel older, like an adult. Now he felt like a child squirming in his chair.

After what felt like hours, the officer left and Sheriff Keller came in looking about as tired as Archie felt. He didn't talk for a while, just sat there staring at Archie with this sad expression while Archie's eyes darted all around the room, trying to fix on anything but that look, like Sheriff Keller pitied him.

"Son, these are pretty serious allegations you're making against Ms. Grundy," he said.

"What? No. I'm not here about Ger-- Ms. Grundy I'm here for the murder."

"You're underage, son," Sheriff Keller said with that same god damn look in his eyes. "What she did is illegal. Not to mention immoral. She could go away for a long time."

Archie felt sick, this was what she had warned him about, what she'd been afraid of. It wasn't what he wanted, this wasn't how he'd thought it would go at all.

"I'm not. This isn't.... like that. It's not about..." He wasn't a victim. Sheriff Keller was looking at him like he was a scared little child and he wasn't. "You can't press charges unless I say so and I'm not going to. You can't do anything."

Sheriff Keller only sighed, shook his head. "You've had a long day," he said. "Go home, get some rest."

It was unspoken but the implication was clear; this wasn't over. They would continue this. Archie stared hard at Sheriff Keller, wanting to lash out but so very aware of any actions that could make him seem younger, like a kid having a temper tantrum. He didn't want them to see him like that. So instead he stayed silent, stood stiffly. Before he reached the door, Sheriff Keller laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezed.

"It's going to be ok, son," he said.

_Liar,_ Archie thought.

*

He didn't sleep that night. Couldn't even if he wanted to. He'd been having dreams lately, nightmares really. In them he was underwater, he was drowning like Jason. Every time he tried to breach the surface hands would push him back down. The face above him always changed, one day it would be Geraldine, then it was Jason, his father, Betty, Jughead. Every night he dreamt that he was dying and every night it was a different face he knew that had murdered him.

It didn't take a genius to work out what the dream meant. The town was suffocating him, had been for a long time. Everything that had happened lately, he just couldn't seem to catch a break. Riverdale was small and lately it was beginning to feel like a vice around his neck, cutting off his oxygen and squeezing the life out of him.

For Archie, there was only one solution. He began to pack a bag. He threw in enough clothes for a week, a couple extra shirts for luck, his notebook filled with songs, his guitar. He was just going to brave the hallway to fetch his toothbrush when he heard something scratching at his window.

He looked out and Jughead was there, perched on the windowsill like a cat, hands gripping the beams above him and a backpack slung over his shoulders. Years ago Jughead used to do that almost every night. He'd scale the drainpipe and slip into Archie's room and they'd lie awake talking. Archie's room had always been a refuge for Jughead, it'd started around the time Jughead's parents had split, around the time Archie's own parents had separated too. Two boys from two broken homes, only when Archie had his dad, a rock in the storm of preadolescence, Jughead had no one. For years Archie had always made sure to leave the window unlatched. But tonight it was locked. It'd been so long since Jughead had been here last that at first Archie hadn't understood, just stood there, staring at Jughead like he wasn't real, just a ghost of his past. Then Jughead had sighed and raised his eyebrows.

"You gonna let me in or just keep me hanging around?"

For a brief second Archie considered just drawing the curtains and shutting Jughead out. It was his fault, after all wasn't it? He was the one who'd pressured him to tell, he was the one that had caused this mess.

But they were friends, or trying to be.

Grudgingly, Archie unlatched the window, returned to his bag while Jughead struggled to lift the sash and tumble in. He considered pushing his belongings to the ground, hiding the evidence of his escape but then he decided against it. Jughead would have seen them already, he would have jumped to his own conclusions, probably the right ones. They usually were, he was infuriatingly perceptive that way. Instead Archie sat down, watching Jughead, waiting.

Jughead stood in the middle of the room looking uncertain and uncomfortable. Once upon a time Jughead had been an almost permanent fixture in his house. His father never batted an eye when Jughead would magically materialise in the mornings having not been there the night before, he'd just set down an extra plate and stack it high with pancakes and syrup.

Now, Jughead stuck out like the proverbial sore thumb. A blip of grey against the yellows and blues of Archie's room. Discomfort wasn't something Jughead wore well, and Archie felt a tiny malicious thrill at seeing it.

"Going on a trip?" Jughead asked, nodding to the bag.

"I'm feeling like a change of scenery," he said. He sounded defensive; he felt defensive. He was waiting for Jughead to tell him he was being foolish and irresponsible. The school term had just started, he needed to stick around in case the police had more questions.

"Small town life feeling a bit too small and cosy, huh?" Jughead said. Archie couldn't tell what Jughead was thinking. He never could, not even when they'd been close. Jughead was like a one way mirror, always watching but revealing nothing. It bugged Archie more now than it ever had before.

"What're you doing here?" he demanded.

"Nostalgia maybe, anthem for doomed youth." Jughead shrugged. His eyes were moving around Archie's room like he was relearning it, revising what he thought he knew and committing the new version to memory.

"Why do you have to be like that?"

"Like what?"

"So weird all the time, why can't you just answer a question normally?"

"What is normal for the spider is chaos for the fly." Jughead said with a smile, eyes returning to him.

Archie sniffed, rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Listen, what do you say to some company?"

Archie hadn't been expecting that. He blinked, raised his eye brows. "Are you serious?"

Jughead shrugged. "Sure, why not? I could do with a change of scenery too. Plus you do kind of owe me a road trip."

Archie pursed his lips, considering. "Alright," he said eventually. "But I'm leaving like, now, so if you've got to get stuff you've gotta go now."

"No need," Jughead said, patting a hand on his bag strap. "I've got what I need right here. Boy Scout's motto, always be prepared."

"You were never a boy scout."

"Figure of speech."

They left just after dawn. Paranoid about waking his dad, they rolled Archie's car down the street before starting the engine. He'd left a note on the kitchen table. 'Back soon. With Jughead. We're safe.' as an after thought he'd added 'I'm sorry.' He imagined how disappointed his dad would be when he found it. He felt like he'd been doing that a lot lately; apologising, letting people down.

As they passed the sign that told them they were leaving Riverdale, Archie felt something lift from his shoulders. It wasn't quite the feeling of vindication he thought he'd feel when he'd walked into the police station, but it was close. It was better than nothing.

Jughead sat slumped in the seat next to him, bony knees pressed against the dashboard. His eyes were closed but Archie didn't think he was sleeping because his fingers were drumming a beat on his thigh along with the music they were listening to. It felt strange, being with Jughead again, like nothing and everything had changed all at once. That strange dissonance of the old and the new, familiar and unfamiliar.

There was no denying that they both had changed. This summer especially seemed to have shaped the both of them in ways that created an ever-growing rift between them. Archie had never wanted to grow apart from Jughead, but nevertheless, it had still happened. And now, he wasn't sure how to act around him, and he didn't think Jughead knew how to act around him either. Everything they said to each other seemed to be the wrong thing. And so for a long time neither of them said anything, just drove in silence as the sun rose higher in the sky and dawn turned to morning turned to early afternoon.

It was Sunday, but Archie still imagined his dad had found the note by now. Had probably checked his room just to make sure and found it empty, his guitar missing, and his car absent from the driveway. The knowledge of this felt like lead in his stomach and he knew there had to have been a better way of doing this. But at the same time, it was the only thing he could think to do.

Riverdale was a small town. People talked. It was only a matter of time before his dad heard all about what his son had been getting up to over the summer.

Call him a coward but he didn't want to be around for that.

Just then Jughead inhaled a sharp breath and sat up. He looked dazed, stared out the window for a while, eyes vague as they scanned the passing scenery. Archie figured he had dropped off after all.

"Bad dream?" Archie reached over, lowered the radio. It was spewing out some tinny teen charts number. Obscure and inoffensive.

Jughead blinked at him, stretched and cracked his spine. "Where are we?" he asked, instead.

"Couple hours outside of Midvale. You hungry? I was thinking we could stop off somewhere."

"I could eat," Jughead said with a small smile. When could he not eat?

They pulled over at a service station a half hour later, parked beside a row of camper vans decorated with bumper stickers from all over. Inside, the burger joint looked like any other you'd find on this side of America, looked like Edward Hopper's Nighthawks, looked like Pop's. Red and white stripe booths and stainless steel tables and chairs. The waitress in a pink candy stripe uniform and white sneakers. There were only a few other patrons; an elderly couple in matching jogging suits, the woman wearing a lavender fanny pack, the man reading a Tom Clancy novel; a few truckers sitting solo at the counter; there was a child in a corner booth with a chocolate milk and a colouring book. Every now and then the waitress would circle round to the kid to make sure they were ok, that they were still behaving.

Jughead took a seat in one of the booths by the window, looked at the menu while he waited for Archie to slide in opposite him. When the waitress came by Jughead ordered his usual; double cheeseburger and a chocolate malt. Archie smirked to himself and ordered the same.

"I don't even know why you bother reading the menu," he said as the waitress left them, circling round to check on the kid as she did.

"I like to know what's on offer." Jughead shrugged. He was watching the kid in the corner booth blow bubbles in their chocolate milk until the waitress stopped them with a sharp _'ah!'_

"You're not even going to ask me, are you?" Archie said and Jughead's focus switched to him, eyes questioning. "At the police station? I thought you'd be dying to know considering how invested you were."

"I figured you'd tell me if you wanted me to know."

"It went terribly. It was a waste of time."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

Definitely, Archie thought. He wanted to tell Jughead that all he'd managed to do was ruin a woman's life but he suspected that Jughead would feel that was justice served, so he kept it to himself.

"Listen," Jughead said. "I know it's not going to mean much to you right now, but you did the right thing."

"That seems subjective."

"Maybe," Jughead said again. "But I think it's important that someone tells you that. You haven't done anything wrong."

"I know I haven't," he said. It sounded like a lie. "So why are you here?"

"Waiting for my burger."

Archie rolled his eyes. "I don't mean _here_ here I mean why did you decide to leave? I figured you'd tell me I was being irresponsible, that I should stick around."

"You've figured a lot of things about me lately that are wrong," Jughead said, staring at him carefully.

"Maybe," Archie said, feeling uncomfortable. "Sorry. You're just... different."

"So are you."

"I guess. But you mostly know why now. What about you?"

Jughead didn't answer at first, his eyes had gone down and the shutters had come up as he picked at his thumbnail and Archie got the feeling that Jughead was done with this conversation. Then, finally, Jughead said "Let's just say you aren't the only one running from something," It was deliberately obscure and infuriatingly, typically Jughead.

The waitress came over with their burgers and their malts and they ate in silence. Jughead, as always, finished first and excused himself to go to the bathroom. While he was gone, Archie did what he'd been putting off all morning; he checked his cell phone.

There were five texts, seven missed calls, three voicemails. Two from Betty, one from his father. He knew it was something he was going to have to face sooner or later. His life back home wasn’t just going to go away. It was childish to think his problems would magically disappear. But he just wasn’t ready to face it right now. Turning his phone off he shoved it deep in his back pocket, looking up as Jughead emerged from the restroom.

"Ready to blow this joint?" Jughead adjusted his beanie as he approached.

"Sure," Archie said. "Where to?"

“I was thinking sun. Sea. Surf. Wind in your hair like you just don’t care.” Jughead smiled that heavy ironic smile of his, headed for the exit.

Archie followed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sneaking another quick chappie in before ep 3 airs. This is where it all starts to get wayyyy au.
> 
> Also important to note in this story I'm making the assumption that the pep rally took place on the friday. So Archie made his confession the following day which means neither he nor Jughead were in school at the point of Cheryl's arrest at the end of ep 2. They're still very much in the dark about Jason's actual time of death.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and left kudos- as any writer can tell you, that shit keeps you going.

The beach was a couple hours drive away. When most people think beaches they think long stretches of golden sand, a blue ocean glittering like jewels in the sunlight.

This was not one of those beaches. The coast line was rocky, the shore an expanse of pebbles that if you tried to walk on barefoot would bruise and burn your toes and heels. They'd erected boardwalks and a pier that stretched out into the sea to try and encourage tourism. Archie's parents used to take them here sometimes when they were kids. They'd go for weekends and stay at this one motel right by the boardwalk and spend hours in the arcades. The last time they'd been here it'd been back when his mum and dad were still together, still mostly happy. So to Archie, and to Jughead, it was special.

The two of them sat side by side on the bonnet of Archie's car eating ice cream, watching the sun creep lower in the sky. The first day of their life on the road was coming to an end. Tomorrow would be Monday, when this trip officially went from being a slightly bad idea to full on reckless.

"Remember when we were like twelve and we got hold of my dad's whiskey?" Jughead said, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.

Archie remembered, they drank three quarters of the bottle between them, gagging on every sip but determined not to be the first one to pussy out. When one of them took a swig, the other matched it. They tried to hide the evidence by topping it up with ice tea. Archie had been sick as a dog that night and for the whole of the following day. Archie's dad had just stood in the doorway as he'd hurled his guts into the toilet bowl, shaking his head slowly. He'd been so disappointed in him. Archie hated seeing that look in his dad's eyes even then. Tried not to think about how it would almost definitely be the look he'll see when he goes back home.

"Not one of our smartest moves," Archie said. He looked sideways at Jughead who was gnawing on the edge of his sugar cone. "What made you think of it?"

“Dad's back in town." Jughead span the cone round, inspected it, gnawed on the other side. He spoke so casually like he didn't care either way. Archie knew better. His eyes trailed to Jughead's right ear, to the hearing aid he knew was so expertly hidden under his beanie.

Archie's dad had been disappointed but Jughead's had been irate. He'd smacked him so hard round the head it ruptured his eardrum, left him with almost complete hearing loss in one ear. It was also the last time Jughead had seen his father.

Archie didn't ask if Jughead was ok, knew he wouldn't be able to give a straight answer. Jughead's relationship with his dad was... complicated.

"That why you came out here?" he asked instead.

Jughead shrugged. "Not really. He's been back a while. Since before school started anyway. He hasn't tried to get in touch with me. I've just seen him around."

Archie knew that that would bother Jughead more. Knowing his father was back in town but avoiding him.

Jughead slid down off the bonnet and tossed the rest of his cone for the seagulls, stretched his arms up over his head.

"We should find somewhere to stay for the night. Maybe that motel we used to go to is still open."

As it turned out, it was. It didn't look like a single thing had changed since they'd last been here. Same neon sign up front, same tired old vending machine and jukebox in the office. The only thing different was the girl behind the counter, but she had the same bored expression as the last one; ignoring them in favour of her magazine until the very last moment when they were standing right in front of her.

"Twin or double?" she asked, eyeing the two of them.

"Twin," they both said.

"We're not... we're friends." Archie said. Jughead snorted and rolled his eyes. The girl smacked a key attached to an oversized plastic keychain with an embossed 7 on the counter.

"Towels, ice, and bedding are complimentary. Anything else is extra. You can settle your bill in the morning."

"Thanks," Archie said.

"Come on, _pal_ ," Jughead said, stressing the word with an amused arch of his eyebrows as he tugged on Archie's arm.

"Have a nice night," the girl drawled, already returning to her magazine.

They carried their backpacks into their room, Jughead taking the bed nearest the window and Archie taking the one by the bathroom. The room was nondescript, painted magnolia with dark carpets to hide the stains and abstract prints of the sea hanging on the walls. The bedding was new from what he remembered, at least.

Jughead pushed his pillows against the headboard and sat back against them, pulling out his laptop even as he was kicking off his shoes. He checked the wifi, managed to latch onto signal from a nearby restaurant. It was slow, but free.

Archie rooted around in his bag until he found his notebook and a pen, settled down on his own bed as the sound of Jughead's fingers clicking quietly but rapidly over the keys filled the space between them.

He glanced over, caught sight of the word document Jughead had open.

"What're you writing, anyway?" he asked.

"Nunaya."

"What?"

"Nunaya business." Jughead glanced at him, gave a tiny smirk.

"Fair point." Archie returned his attention to his notebook. He stared at the lyrics on the page feeling like they came from a stranger. He barely even remembered writing them. Summer seemed such a long time ago when in reality it was only a couple of weeks.

He flipped over to a clean page but it seemed too white, too crisp. He couldn't think of anything worthy of dirtying it with. Sighing, he tossed the notebook to the foot of the bed, dropped his head back against the headboard and closed his eyes.

"Writer's block?" Jughead asked.

"Something like that."

Archie thought of Geraldine. He wondered whether she'd been taken in for questioning, what she'd told them. She'd agreed to go with him at first, told him that they would both confess, that it was the right thing to do. But when the time came, she'd changed her mind and he was on his own. He was beginning to realise that he couldn't rely on a lot of what she told him.

"Look I know we're kind of in a weird place right now," Jughead said quietly. "But if you want to talk about it... I'm here. I've always been here."

It was unexpected enough that Archie opened his eyes and turned to look at him, only to find that Jughead was looking right back at him. His expression wasn't unlike the one he wore the previous night in Archie's room. Nervous, uncertain.

"It's just. Everything's so weird now. Nothing I seem to do is right. Everything I try to do I end up hurting the people I care about and I'm just. I'm so tired, Jug."

"Yeah..." Jughead nodded slowly, his gaze going vague as he stared at something just over Archie's shoulder before snapping back to him. "If it's any consolation, for me at least, I get it now. You had stuff going on."

Archie didn't think that Jughead got it, not really anyway. The 'stuff' Jughead was referring to was Geraldine. He knew what Jughead thought about her but he was wrong. Geraldine was one of the people he'd hurt too.

"I just wish we could go back, you know? That I could get a do over."

"What would you do different?"

"I don't know," Archie said. "Maybe go on that 4th of July road trip with you."

Jughead didn't respond then. He pressed his lips together in a thin, bloodless line and stared hard at his computer screen. After a few beats of frozen silence, Archie glanced at him, could've sworn he saw the thin sheen of tears in Jughead's eyes.

"Hey Jug? You ok?"

Jughead snapped out of his revery, blinked hard, avoiding Archie's gaze. "Hey listen I'm gonna. I gotta grab some food. Or something." He snapped his laptop closed. yanked on his shoes without undoing the laces. "Don't wait up, ok?"

And then he was gone, leaving Archie alone to wonder just what the hell he had said.

*

It was late when Jughead returned. Archie had been deliberating between going to find him and letting him come back when he was ready. It was just another of many things Archie was lost on these days; did Jughead want him to go after him or did he just want to be alone. In the end he'd settled for pretending to sleep and leaving the sidelight on, his instincts told him Jughead wanted privacy. Jughead had never been good with emotions, he figured Jughead wasn't so different now that that had changed.

He closed his eyes when he heard the key in the motel door, rolled over to face the wall. He listened as Jughead tip toed around the room, removing his shoes and jacket and sliding into bed. The smell of lingering cigarette smoke drifted over to him and he wondered just when the hell Jughead had started smoking.

There was a lot he didn't know about his childhood friend these days.

There was more rustling as Jughead slipped under the covers, the click of the light switch and the room fell into darkness. For a long time there was silence, just the sound of Jughead breathing and Archie figured he'd fallen asleep, but then Jughead said quietly into the darkness, "I know you're awake."

Archie rolled over onto his back, stared up at the ceiling. It was dark but the curtains were thin enough that the moon shone through so he could make out vague shapes around him. Could make out Jughead's lump in the bed, rolled on his side, facing him.

"Sorry about earlier," Jughead said. "I just needed some air."

"I feel like I said something wrong," Archie confessed. "Whatever it was, I'm sorry."

“You didn't say anything wrong I just..." Jughead took a deep, bracing breath, like he was preparing to submerge into icy water or jump over the edge of a steep drop. “Archie I need to tell you something."

“I’m listening, Jug.”

“I think I might have killed Jason Blossom.”

Of all the things Archie expected to hear, that had not been one of them. For a moment he was frozen, uncertain if he’d even heard Jughead correctly. “What?” he said finally, carefully.

“Or… I don’t know. It’s. That night was really unclear but… I think it was me, Archie. I think I shot him."

Archie sat up, he turned the light on, blinking against the sudden bright. Jughead lay there, eyes averted, resigned.

“Jughead, what are you talking about?” Archie squinted at him.

“I mean that I was there that night. I was at Sweetwater River.” Jughead gave a sharp, ugly laugh. “Hell, I was there with Jason.”

"But he was with Cheryl. If you'd been there she would've--"

"She didn't know. He went to her after he'd been with me."

Archie felt anger rising. He thought about the times he'd felt Jughead's eyes on him, hard and cold with judgement. The suspicion Jughead had carried like he actually thought Archie was capable of something like murder and this whole time... “You were hounding me for days to say something, 'A kid died, Archie, tell them what you heard, Archie.' You know Geraldine is probably going to go to jail for what you made me do?"

"Good!" Jughead nearly shouted. "She deserves it! She's a predator, Archie. What she did to you was messed up."

"Shut up." Archie felt a thrill of ice run through his veins and if he'd been anyone else he would have lashed out at Jughead, struck him across the jaw. But he wasn't anyone else, he was Archie Andrews. And this was Jughead, his childhood friend. A boy who'd already seen far too much violence coming from those who were supposed to love him. So Archie didn't, instead he clenched his hands into fists, feeling his nails dig deep into his palms. "You've got no grounds to judge me or her. This whole time you’ve been sitting on _this?_ What the hell, Jughead?”

“I don't know what I've been sitting on!" Jughead snapped. "I was out of it that night, Archie. I barely remember anything, if I told the cops what I thought I knew they'd think I was just some crazy kid looking for attention. I thought maybe that if you told them what you'd heard that it would make things clearer. For me."

“ _Why?_ ” It didn’t ring true. Any of it. “What do you mean you were out of it? You've never done drugs in your life. Or you hadn't... What happened this summer, Jughead?"

It took Jughead a long moment to answer, but when he did his voice was small, uncertain. "I don't know," he admitted. "I feel like none of it makes sense. But I need to talk to someone about it. It's been driving me crazy."

"Then talk to me," Archie said, softer this time.

Another hesitation.

"Ok." Jughead took another shaking breath. "Ok. You were honest with me so I can be honest with you. But I need you to stay quiet when I tell you, ok? Or I won't be able to do this."

Archie snapped his mouth shut. He nodded.

"Ok," Jughead said again. He took another breath, reached over to turn the light off, leaving them both in darkness. Archie figured because it was easier for him, not having to see Archie's face. "Here goes. It started on the last day of term..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we see some things through Jughead's eyes.

Summer, in Jughead's opinion, was vastly overrated. It was generally too hot and too long. The rest of his classmates would no doubt be off busying themselves with plans for trips to the lake or a little further afield to the beach. But Jughead preferred to keep to himself. He didn't like to drink, not since that disastrous experience with Archie when they'd been twelve years old. He didn't like to party, he found the whole thing tedious and ever so slightly depressing. Drugs were out, he hated the thought of losing control of himself- it kind of terrified him.

Jughead knew that for the most part his summer would be filled with the same thing he did every year; minding his baby sister while his mum took extra shifts and maybe working the odd day in the kitchen at Pop's for some cash in hand.

But this year, there was something different. Something he was actually a little excited about, if he was honest with himself. He had a project. He'd borrowed a camera from the school art's department. One of the good ones that he never would have been able to afford in a hundred years. Ms. Kadinsky allowed him to take it out on extended loan purely on merit. She liked him, thought he had an eye for the arts. Although as she'd handed it to him she'd promised with a solemn vow that should anything happen to the camera Jughead would pay for it dearly.

His plan was to document Riverdale; get to the real nitty gritty of that small American town. His plan was that this summer would be formative for him, he was determined to make it count.

And it would. Just not in the way he had been planning, or wanting.

It all began with Jason Blossom.

Until that summer, Jason was not someone that Jughead had a lot to do with. At best, they would ignore each other. At worst, Jason would throw lazy insults at Jughead as they passed each other in the halls, emo, goth, freak, nothing original or mind blowing,  they were just words used to make his friends and fellow jocks laugh. Honestly, Jason barely featured on Jughead's radar. That 'mean king of the jocks' thing bored him; it was a tired high school cliche.

That all changed when he bumped into him on the school playing field. He came on him like a character in a game of Clue; Jason Blossom, under the bleachers, holding a cigarette.

Jason was leaning against a wooden post, the cigarette drawn between his full lips and slats of sunlight shining through the benches, illuminating his hair, his pale white skin and his blue eyes.

"What're you doing, freak?" Jason asked in a bored tone, the insult was made out of habit, it meant nothing.

Jughead ignored him, walked straight by him like he wasn't there. He knew that being ignored was going to annoy Jason more than anything. He was right.

"Hey, I'm talking to you," Jason said, stepping after him.

Jughead turned around, looked to the side like he was surprised, pointed to himself. "Sorry, were you talking to me?"

Jason rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, a delicate gesture, almost pretty. He tossed his lit cigarette to the side even though there were warnings everywhere about the dangers of forest fires.

"You're so weird," he said. "You make my skin crawl. Skulking around with that camera. Were you hoping to get a couple shots in the boy's locker room?"

"Well gee, Jason, you caught me. Imagine my disappointment," Jughead said to him, voice thick, dripping sarcasm.

"Whatever." He nodded to the camera, strap slung around Jughead's neck. "Where'd you get that anyway? It looks expensive, definitely not something you'd scavenge from the Good Will bargain bin, poor boy."

"Not that it's any of your business but Ms. Kadinsky leant it to me. For a project."

"A project?" Jason smiled and aesthetically it was perfect, full lips spreading over straight white teeth, blue eyes crinkling at the corners. But perfect as it was, it was cold. Like the cold marble carving of a statue. "That's cute. Is it for extra merit? You're still not getting into a good college, Jones."

Jughead smiled back at him, inclined his head. "It's been nice talking to you, Jason," he said. He turned to walk away. He get two steps before Jason called out to him again, stopping him.

"Wait, I didn't mean that. Sorry... force of habit. Tell me about your project."

Once again, Jughead turned to face him. "What's it to you?" he asked, heavily sceptical.

"I'm curious," Jason said with an innocent shrug. "Maybe I could help out."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"I'm bored," Jason said. "Maybe it could be fun."

*

"The thing with Jason was he collected people like they were things. I didn't know it at the time but I'd just become his latest thing." Jughead said. His voice was soft in the dark. 

Archie was quiet, mostly because he'd promised Jughead he wouldn't say a word, but also because he was thinking about Betty and her sister Polly. Betty didn't blame Jason for what happened to Polly. She said he'd just been the last straw. He might have been the thing to tip her over, but her mother was the one who put her there in the first place. Regardless. Jason hadn't helped. Polly had been vulnerable and Jason had preyed on her like a lion picking off the weakest in the herd. Isolating it. Hunting it to the point of exhaustion then going in for the kill. He might not have been the one to drag her to the edge, but he certainly didn't hold back on pushing her over.

Jason was a predator; he preyed on the weak, the vulnerable.

Archie didn't think Jughead was weak, but he was vulnerable. An outcast who stuck to the fringes of society. A boy from a broken home with an abusive father that he couldn't ever quite bring himself to hate. of course he was a prime target for Jason.

Even as Archie thought this, he knew he would never say it to Jughead. There were some things people just didn't need to hear about themselves.

"Anyway," Jughead continued with a sigh, forced nonchalance like he was summarising the notes on a lecture. "After that Jason started helping me out with my project. He actually had some good ideas. There was this, like, darkness to him. Way darker than I ever thought him capable of. It was kind of interesting to me..."

*

"Are you serious?" Jughead stared at Jason like he'd grown a second head. "And you say I'm the weirdo."

They were sitting in the remains of Jughead's old tree house, of all places. It was smaller now, or maybe Jughead was just bigger. It'd been a long time since he'd last been here.

Honestly, he didn't know why he'd brought Jason here. This had been one of his secret spots. Only Archie had been here before, and Betty on the odd occasion. Showing it to Jason felt like revealing a whole secret part of himself and he still didn't quite understand why he'd felt the need to show it to Jason of all people. 

It felt a little like flaying himself open in front of a hungry carnivore. Prometheus holding up his liver for the eagle and saying 'here it is, buddy. Have at it.'

But that was Jason; he had a way of making people do what they didn't really want to do.

Jason sat with his back to the trunk and his long legs dangling over the edge of the plank floor. Jughead sat on a stool next to him, arms draped over an overhanging branch, supporting himself as he leant into his weight.

"Oh Fisher Price, I'm deadly serious," Jason said with a deliciously dark smile. "Pun fully intended."

He'd been winding the cord of his earphones round and round his slender wrist when he'd told Jughead he had an idea. Then, without a word he'd taken the cord, wrapped it around his neck then pulled just tight enough that the white cables bit into his pale flesh. He'd rolled his eyes back in his head and his tongue had lolled out, neck going slack as he'd pulled the earphones up and over his head.

He'd done such a perfect impression of a corpse hanging in the breeze that a chill had gone down Jughead's spine and he'd told him to cut it out.

"Trust me," Jason told him. "This is inspired. The pictures you've been taking... ok, technically they're good."

"Thank you," Jughead said with a mock flourish.

"But they're boring," Jason continued, eyeing him. "What, a rusty nail sticking out some old treehouse? A tire swing in some kiddy park? What's that even supposed to mean? It doesn't say anything."

Jughead shrugged, looking down at his shoes. "It's just things I remember from when I was a kid."

"Fisher Price, please. Even I know there's more interesting stuff than that from your childhood." As he said this Jason reached out, yanked Jughead's beanie back to reveal the hearing aid hooked over his right ear. Jughead pushed Jason's hand away, pulled his beanie firmly over his ears as he glared at him.

"Cut it out," he snapped. "And stop calling me that."

Jason had adopted the nickname for him after Jughead admitted he suspected he might be ace. Another secret part of himself he'd never meant to give to Jason yet still, somehow, Jason had drawn from him. Jason had been fascinated by it-- if in a detached, somewhat cold way. He'd looked at Jughead like he'd been spread out on a slide under a microscope. Some objectively fascinating organic material put there for him to study. He'd wanted to know how Jughead could be so sure, if he'd never tried it before. Jason was so highly sexed that he just couldn't comprehend anyone being any other way. It'd taken Jughead just a few hours in Jason's company to realise this of Jason. He was obsessed with sex- what he could do with it and what he could make other people do for it. Jughead felt there had to be a story there, something ugly and dark that made him feel kind of bad for Jason. Made him more willing to put up with Jason's personal, often invasive questions about his own sexuality or lack thereof.

In the end Jason had devised that it was fate that Jughead's initials were that of a children's toy. Sex free, kiddy friendly, Fisher Price.

It still wasn't clear to Jughead whether the nickname was intended to be mean or Jason's attempt at a term of endearment.

It was always hard to tell with Jason. He veered so dramatically between good and cruel. Like there was some kind of invisible switch that triggered at will. Jason could go from being your best friend to tearing you apart in a matter of seconds for no other apparent reason than that he had gotten bored.

Jughead was learning to read the signs between the two Jasons, to take his leave when the mean side appeared. But sometimes, it still caught him unawares.

"I'm sorry," Jason said. He sounded sincere. it seemed that this time, the good Jason was here. "I went too far. I just mean that it could be good. I could be your model, your muse." His eyes creased at the corners as he'd smiled that perfectly cold smile of his. "I make a good corpse, don't you think?"

Jughead didn't think it was a good idea, but as he already knew, Jason was very good at making people do what they didn't really want to do.

*

"You know in hindsight it's extremely creepy," Jughead allowed. "Taking photos of Jason as a corpse. I mean at the time it was still creepy, but now? He really got creative with them too, I didn't even know there were that many different ways to die."

"Yeah." Archie exhaled. He'd promised to stay silent, but he felt like he needed to make some kind of noise, if just to let Jughead know he was still there, still listening. A thought hit him and he had to ask, "What did you do with the photos?"

Jughead was quiet for a moment, pensive. "I've got them on my laptop," he said finally.

"Jughead." Archie groaned, rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What if somebody finds them? Do you have any idea how that would look?"

"I know exactly how that would look, Archie. But I couldn't delete them. It just felt... wrong."

Archie heard rustling. He saw the dark lump that was Jughead move, sit up against the headboard, arms resting on his knees. "You know he actually made me take pictures of him like he'd drowned. I don't know what he looked like when Kevin and Moose found him but I've got a pretty good idea after that photo shoot." Archie saw Jughead's form shiver involuntarily.

"Anyway, morbid as that all was, that's not even the weirdest bit..."

*

As the summer progressed, Jughead came to the realisation that he'd spent the majority of his time in Jason's company.

Jughead was solitary at heart, he didn't normally spend this much time with even his closest of friends.

Jason, on the other hand, was a much more sociable creature. And so, it stood to reason that the amount of time he was spending with Jason, he would inevitably encounter Jason's friends.

(He ignored the nagging thought in the back of his mind that told him that this summer, on a scale of one to zero, he'd spent a total of zero with his supposed best friend Archie Andrews. Everytime he'd tried, Archie had bailed. So for the most part he'd given up trying. If he thought too much on that fact it started to hurt, so he avoided it.)

They’d been sitting at a booth a Pop’s when Reggie and Moose waltzed in which, in hindsight, had been a bad move. Everyone went to Pop’s.

"What’s Edward Scissorhands doing here?” Reggie asked as he sat down next to Jason. Moose dropped down beside Jughead, spreading out so that Jughead had no choice but to squeeze right up against the wall. He sighed while chewing a fry.

Jason's friends held about as much interest to Jughead as the sky held to a fish and he was certain the feeling was mutual. They just didn't mix. Ever. They came from completely different worlds and Jughead was quite content for it to remain that way.

There had been a time, long ago, when he and Reggie had been friends, kind of. They'd sat next to each other in first grade. One time Reggie had been crying because the red crayon in his box was broken and he _needed_ that red crayon for his picture of a car because his dad's car was red and he wanted to give it to him when he got home but he _couldn't_ because his red crayon was  _broken_. Jughead gave him his. To him it had been logical. He'd been drawing an elephant; he'd only needed the blue and the grey crayons. He didn't care about the red. Reggie had looked at him like he'd given him the sun itself. For the rest of the year Reggie had jealously insisted that he and Jughead were best friends so everyone else better back off. Then, the following year, Reggie had discovered girls and this redheaded kid called Archie had joined their class and he and Jughead had bonded from almost the very first day and neither of them had ever really looked back on that brief period when Jughead Jones III and Reggie Mantle had been the best of friends.

Looking at the two of them now, it was hard to imagine that it had ever been a thing. Red crayon or no red crayon, they were polar opposites of each other.

“We’re working on a project together,” Jason said with a teasing smile that Jughead wasn't sure was aimed at him or Reggie.

“Project? What project?” Reggie’s brows drew together, he looked so comically perplexed that Jughead almost laughed before he caught himself. Nothing about Reggie was subtle, never had been. 

“Art project. For school. Extra credit.”

“Oh right.” Reggie’s confusion eased as the mystery of why such a bottom feeder like Jughead would sully the presence of someone like Jason was solved. “Smart thinking bro, coach’s been on our asses about raising our grades.”

At that moment Moose reached over, stole a couple fries from Jughead’s plate. Jughead scooted his plate away from him, shot a venomous glare in his direction. No one touched Jughead’s food. Drawn by the movement, Reggie turned to look at Jughead expectantly.

“Well, art school’s over for the day,” he said and made a shooing motion with his hands. “Vamos.”

“You realise you’re using the inclusive right now, you’re suggesting we all go,” Jughead said. Reggie looked at him blankly. “You should be using Vete if you want just me to go.” Reggie continued to look blank. Jughead rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Idiot.” He snagged the rest of his burger, hoisted himself up and over the back of the booth, ignored Reggie’s sputtered insult as he left the diner.

Later, when he was sitting outside and fiddling with his camera Jason sat down beside him. Jason fished around in his pockets until he pulled out a pack of smokes and a lighter. He put two to his lips, sucking in as he lit up then offered one to Jughead. Jughead was about to decline when he thought _what the hell_ and accepted. It wasn’t the first time he’d smoked. He’d stolen a couple from his mother’s purse a while back. He knew enough about it to to moderate his inhale, careful to let it filter down into his lungs without sputtering and choking.

They sat there together for a moment. Jason inhaling and exhaling smoke and Jughead watching him. He’d noticed that Jason never actually smoked, not really. The cigarettes were just as much an act as everything else about Jason. He never actually let the smoke go to his lungs, it streamed out his nostrils just as soon as he’d sucked it in. Appearances were everything.

“Your friends are assholes,” Jughead said finally.

“So are you,” said Jason. “So am I.”

“You lied to them. This isn’t for school credit.”

“They wouldn’t ever believe we’d hang out otherwise.”

It was true. Jughead was nothing to no one and Jason was everything to everyone. It didn’t even hurt, it was just a matter of fact, like the fact that the sky was blue and that water was wet.

“What would they do if they knew what the pictures were of?” Jughead asked. He’d been scrolling through them earlier. Countless images of Jason in various guises of death. Jason in bed, peaceful like he was sleeping. Jason lying half covered in forest mulch, eyes staring vacant into the empty sky. Jason lying broken on the train tracks, neck twisted, arms splayed. Every time Jughead looked at them he got this sick feeling, what the fuck was he even doing?

“I don’t know,” Jason said softly, vaguely. “But if you tell them I’ll kill you."

That was just another one of those times Jughead couldn't be sure whether Jason was joking or serious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for the feedback, words of encouragement help yo.

“Reggie and Moose knew you guys were hanging out? Why haven’t they ever said anything?”

“Archie.” Jughead sighed like he was dealing with a very impatient, very trying child. “I’m getting to that. You promised you wouldn’t say anything until I was done.”

Right. Archie closed his mouth, nodded. “Sorry,” he said when he realised Jughead probably couldn’t see that.

Jughead didn’t start speaking again until he was certain that Archie would remain quiet.

“Anyway,” he said finally. “At that point it was weird but more just in a ‘why the hell is Jason Blossom spending so much time with me’ kind of way. It didn’t get _really_ weird until mid May.”

*

The one and only time Jughead went round to Jason's house they were alone. Jason's parents were out at a gala event and Cheryl had gone to the beach for a few days with some friends.

The place felt like some kind of museum or art gallery. Everywhere he turned there was another priceless piece of work on display, most of it modern, most of it cold. The Blossom household was a place for beauty and status, it wasn't a place for comfort.

As Jason lead him through an endless series of rooms and hallways, most of which Jughead suspected they detoured through just so Jason could show off, they eventually came to Jason's room. It had about as much atmosphere as a block of offices. One of those young professional types with the cool couches and bold trendy patterns and a video game station in the recroom, impressive but impersonal, unlived in.

Jason draped himself over the bed, made a lavish gesture with his hand and said "Welcome to my humble abode," before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

Jason was acting strangely, had been since he'd answered the door. His eyes were glazed, pallour waxy and Jughead knew that he was on something. He was immediately wary. In his experience, when people were on narcotics they weren't to be trusted even if they were the truest of true at any other time. And Jason didn't even have that going for him.

"I have the _best_ idea for our little project," Jason said as he rolled over his covers until he'd reached the headboard. He slid open his bedside drawer and pulled out a carving knife, the blade winking in the sunlight that streamed in through his floor to ceiling windows. "What do you think, hot sauce for blood- too tacky?"

Jughead's eyes lingered on the knife. He hadn't moved from the middle of the room, still clutching his backpack and camera. "I think the hot sauce would burn," he said carefully. 

They'd never used props before. Leaf mulch and whatever they found in the environment to hand didn't count, that was decoration. But knives? The blade looked sharp, dangerous, his stomach flip flopped with the way Jason waved it around carelessly. The fact that Jason wasn't currently in his right mind raised so many red flags to Jughead.

"Maybe you should put the knife down," he said.

Jason arched his neck to look at Jughead upside down and scoffed. "It's fine," he said. "I know what I'm doing." He got to his knees suddenly, almost overbalanced on the soft mattress and Jughead flinched when the knife whipped round as Jason righted himself. Jason just smiled this wide, kind of goofy grin at him.

"What've you taken?"

"Oxy," Jason said matter of factly. "A couple of my mom's valium." he shrugged like it was no big deal, then he stretched his hand out towards Jughead, fingers curling in the air. "Hey. Come here."

Jughead shifted from foot to foot but didn't take a step closer. He felt supremely uncomfortable and just a little bit panicked. He hated being around people when they were like this. It frightened him; they were dangerous, unpredicatable.

"I think I'm gonna' go," he said. "I'll come back when you've slept this off."

"No!" Jason said with sudden, surprising force. Then he smiled again. "Listen, we have to do this now, ok? My parents will be back tonight and there's no way you can be here when they're here. So you see, we've got to do this now."

"Do what?" Jughead narrowed his eyes. "What're you talking about?"

Jason beckoned again for Jughead to come closer, but when Jughead remained rooted to the spot, Jason sighed and crawled off the bed. Jughead backed up with each step Jason took towards him until his back hit the door. Jason continued to approach and Jughead's eyes darted between his face and the knife.

"What're you doing, Jason?" his voice carried an edge of panic.

"Look at you, you're acting like a scared little rabbit. What do you think I'm going to do to you?" Jason rolled his eyes, did a kind of flounce. "Relax Fisher Price, stop being so damn dramatic."

He was standing close, too close and Jughead could smell his breath. It was sharp with ketones, kind of rancid. He wondered when was the last time Jason ate anything.

"Maybe I'll relax if you back off a little bit," Jughead suggested and Jason did actually take a small step backwards. He took the knife, bent down to place it on the floor then when he straightened, he was smiling his usual cold perfect smile.

"See?" he said, voice light. "Nothing to be afraid of."

Jughead wasn't convinced, but he was also very aware of acting like prey. He remembered going hiking in the woods with Archie and his dad, how Archie's father had told them if they ever encountered a mountain lion they were never to run. If you run it triggers their hunter instinct, don't let them see you as prey. Jughead wasn't going to run.

"I'm gonna get you some water." He reached behind him for the door handle, it took him a few tries before he found it. He was grateful that the door swung outward away from Jason rather than pushing them closer and he turned, walked stiffly for the kitchen. He heard Jason following close behind, he just couldn't shake the image of Jason as a lion, bare feet padding over the wooden floor. Jason hopped onto the kitchen island, feet dangling as he watched Jughead attempt to navigate his way around the Blossoms' expansive kitchen.

"Upper cabinet to your left," Jason supplied helpfully when Jughead opened one at random looking for glasses. Jughead opened the cupboard as instructed, grabbed two large glasses and filled them at the faucet.

"Tap water?" Jason wrinkled his nose. "Ew."

"Just drink it," Jughead sighed. "Do you need some coffee or something? Maybe some food."

"I'm good," said Jason as he took tiny sips from his glass. "I'm really ok, you're just acting weird for nothing."

"Right. _I'm_ acting weird." He leant back against the island and drank from his own glass. His nerves were calming as he felt like he was getting back some kind of control of the situation.

"I really freaked you out, didn't I?" Jason said, watching Jughead with amusement. "What's got you so frightened, little rabbit? Bring back bad memories of daddy dearest?"

"Fuck you."

"Oh my god, _stop_ being so _sensitive_. It's too damn easy. All I have to do is mention your dad and you're a mess of teenage angst."

In that moment Jughead hated Jason. He hated Riverdale for being so small, that everyone knew everything that had gone down with his dad. He hated himself that Jason was able to use this knowledge so easily to hurt him.

"If I say I'm sorry will you agree to do the photo shoot?"

Jughead didn't answer, concentrated on drinking his water. There were a lot of windows in the kitchen, like all rooms in the Blossom household and outside he could see the leaves in the trees rustling on a slight breeze. Another long hot sleepy summer day in Riverdale. He felt something prod his hip. Looked down to see Jason poking him with his big toe.

"Sorry," Jason said and stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. "I'll behave. I promise."

Jughead sighed. After a moment he nodded his head. The sooner he got this done, the sooner he could leave.

*

"He made me tie him up," Jughead said softly. "He found some rope in his dad's garage and he made me wrap it around his arms and legs. Kept shouting at me that it wasn't tight enough."

Archie saw Jughead shiver again. He seemed to be perpetually shaking now like he was cold only it wasn't cold in the room, it was stuffy and humid and Archie knew that this was adrenaline and nerves. Something Jughead couldn't control.

"I hated it. I just didn't want to be around him anymore. After that I decided that was the last time. I was done."

"You tried to call me," Archie said then and his voice was heavy with guilt. He remembered there being a time in mid may when Jughead had called him continuously, sent him several texts asking him to call him back. Archie had ignored them, figured it was just Jughead hassling him about the encroaching roadtrip. He'd avoided answering because he'd already kind of decided he wasn't going to go anymore, already started making plans with Geraldine.

"Everything was so weird then, nothing felt right you know? I just needed someone to talk to."

And without Archie, Jughead had no one. At the time he'd felt resentful, it wasn't fair putting so much pressure on him, he'd just wanted Jughead to back off, give him some space. Now all he felt was wretched, so horribly guilty. Another loved one he'd failed.

"Jughead, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," Jughead said. "I'm not saying this to make you feel bad. I was angry at the time sure but I'm not any more. I didn't know then what I know now."

If they'd just spoken to each other. If the two of them had just talked, maybe everything that happened to them that summer never would have happened.

"So you're probably wondering how I went from resolving to never speak to Jason Blossom again to being with him at Sweetwater river the night he was killed," Jughead said. "Well I'm going to tell you."


	5. Chapter 5

When Jughead saw Jason's car approaching, he walked faster. It was the third of July and he was stuck in town when he should have been cruising down the highway with Archie and the last thing he wanted was another encounter with Jason Blossom.

He'd suspected that Archie would bail on their road trip. More than suspected, was almost certain of the fact considering Archie had been blanking every one of his texts and calls the past few weeks. But he'd still had hope.

That hope had died when he'd turned up at Archie's house only for his dad to tell him with mild confusion that he thought Archie had already left to pick Jughead up.

Jughead had muttered about how he must've forgotten what Archie had told him, that he was sure he'd find him sooner or later, all the while feeling a tightness in his chest as he found himself barely able to look Archie's dad in the eye. Forcing him to lie to his father; another reason why Archie Andrews sucked.

He sent a hasty text to Archie, fueled by hurt. ' _The next time you use someone as cover you might want to make sure they're in on it too. Don't worry I didn't rat. It's pretty clear this friendship is over. Have a nice life, Andrews_ '. He regretted it almost instantly but it was too late, what was done was done. His thumb hovered over the delete button by Archie's name in his contacts. He hesitated, couldn't quite bring himself to do something so final. Instead he changed Archie's name to DO NOT CALL. He added a few Zs to the beginning to make sure it stayed at the bottom of his contacts. Out of sight out of mind, that was the theory, right?

Jason curb-crawled alongside him for a while. The windows were tinted and he couldn't see inside. It was sinister, an obvious act of intimidation and Jughead felt a surge of annoyance as he sped up. Eventually, the window rolled down and Jughead saw Jason lounging in the driver's seat, one hand resting on the wheel, the other on his thigh.

"You want a ride?"

"No, I'm good."

"You've been avoiding me."

"You noticed. Congratulations."

Jason pursed his lips. He was wearing RayBans that shielded his eyes and Jughead found he couldn't tell what Jason was thinking at all.

"Come on, get in the car. It's hot outside, I'll give you a ride home."

"Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly."

"Cute," Jason said. He was still crawling alongside Jughead, had been for at least two blocks now and people were beginning to stare.

"What do you want, Jason?"

"Honestly? I wanted to apologise. I wasn't in a good head space when you saw me last."

"No shit."

"I want to make it up to you."

"No thanks."

"Why're you being so difficult?"

"I'm done, Jason. The project's done. Summer's almost over. We're done."

Jason's lips twisted into a crooked smile. "You know the way you're talking right now it sounds like you're breaking up with me." Jason pressed a delicate hand to his chest. "I'm crushed. Jughead Jones you heartbreaker."

Jughead didn't answer. Just a couple more blocks and he'd be at Pop's and even if Jason followed him in there it wouldn't be long before someone they knew came in and he'd have to beat a hasty retreat or face questions of why he was hanging out with someone like Jughead.

"You make it really difficult to apologise, you know," Jason said.

"You make it really hard to accept."

"Touché. I mean it, though. I really am sorry." Jason reached up, removed his sunglasses so Jughead could see his eyes and if the move wasn't so damn calculated he would have actually looked genuine.

"I don't like drugs."

"I know and I'm sorry. I never should have done that. I never meant to be like that around you. It just kind of happened."

"Why?"

"My parents have been giving me a hard time lately. I just needed something to relax. It was poor timing. A mistake."

Jughead sighed. Finally he nodded. "Apology accepted."

Jason gave a pleased smile. "Hey what're you doing later?"

"Nothing now." He was unable to keep the bite of resentment out of his voice.

"You got stood up, huh? I got stood up too. You wanna hang out, maybe? I have the perfect idea for a final piece for our project, make sure we end it in style."

"Jason, I meant it when I said I was done with that."

"It's not going to be anything weird, I promise. I'll give you full control, the second you say you've had enough we'll stop."

Jughead stared at Jason and Jason stared back with a smile that as far as Jughead could tell held no ulterior motive.

"Alright," he decided. "One last shoot."

"Deal." Jason sounded delighted. "I'll pick you up at seven." And then he sped off, leaving Jughead alone once more on the sidewalk.

When seven rolled around Jughead made sure he was ready with his camera. He sat at his window, waiting until he saw Jason's car turn into his street then he made his way outside, greeting Jason's car as he pulled up by the sidewalk.

As he climbed into the passenger's seat Jason handed him a brown paper bag from Pop's along with a soda. Jughead pulled a face as he tasted it.

"Is this diet?" he asked, disgusted.

"Sugar rots your teeth," Jason said.

"And aspartame gives you cancer."

"Unproven. I only drink diet and I'm perfectly healthy."

"Say that again in twenty years time."

"Please," Jason said. "You're assuming I'm planning on living another twenty years."

Jughead didn't say anything. By now he had gotten used to Jason's inappropriately dark humour.

As they drove, Jason happily chattered away and Jughead ate his way through his Pop's take out. He pulled a face every time he took a sip of soda but he'd never been one to turn down free food, diet or not. By the time he'd finished he realised they were headed towards the outskirts of town.

"Where are we going?" he asked, blinking hard. He was getting dizzy trying to focus on the world outside. It felt like it was whizzing by too fast and his vision was blurring.

"Sweetwater River," Jason said as he took a right turn. "Hey are you feeling ok?"

"Yeah. No. I don't know..." he rubbed at his eyes, blinking again. He was having trouble keeping them open. "Dizzy."

"Take a nap or something," Jason said. "I'll wake you up when we get there."

Jughead didn't need a nap. But even as he thought this he found himself fading, his mind drifting away into dark no matter how hard he tried to fight it.

At some point he felt the car pull over. He heard the sound of doors open and closing and of voices around him. Someone was sitting in the backseat, their voice obnoxiously loud. Reggie.

"Why's Edgar Allen Poe here?"

"He's coming with us."

"O...k? Hey is he ok? He doesn't look so hot."

"Drunk," Jason said and they both laughed.

_No_ , Jughead wanted to say. _Not drunk._ He didn't drink. But he couldn't move. His mind kept on fading in and out and he felt like he'd come detached from his body. He realised then with a sickening feeling that he'd been drugged. But even as the fear of this coursed through him, there was nothing he could do as Jason drove them further and further away from the town. He was trapped. He was powerless.

*

"After that, I don't really remember anything. Nothing that makes sense." Jughead's voice faded out into silence.

Archie couldn't say a thing. He felt like he'd lost all of his words-- he just couldn't wrap his head around it. Jason was a grade A asshole, but for him to have actually drugged Jughead? He felt sick thinking about it. The idea of it flitted back and forth inside his mind, refusing to settle, refusing to sink in.

Everything that Jughead was telling him felt beyond belief. What did you even say to someone who'd been through something like that?

Archie was afraid to find out what really happened, but he knew that he had to. He had to hear it.

"Did he...?"

"Rape me? No, it wasn't like that," Jughead grunted. "Thank god."

"But why do you think it was you that shot Jason?"

"There was a gun. I remember, it was Jason's, he brought it for the project. I've been over and over it in my mind so many times trying to make it make sense. Could it have been me? I mean it could've..."

"What _do_ you remember?" Archie asked, they could start from there, maybe between them they could put the pieces together in Jughead's mind.

"We went out to Sweetwater River, Reggie, he. He had to drag me half the way, I was so out of it I felt like I was dying. Then Jason, he made me kneel on the ground. He put the gun in my mouth. Archie, I thought he was going to kill me." Jughead's voice was calm, but each breath he took was shaking. "There was a struggle... or something. I remember holding the gun at one point. What if after Jason left to find Cheryl I went after him?"

Archie remembered the gunshot he'd heard out on the river that morning. That one shot that shattered the silence, echoed through the trees. He hadn't even considered that that shot had been made by his childhood friend. That the whole time he'd been there with Geraldine Jughead had been out there somewhere in the woods, frightened, confused, hunted.

"Reggie?"

Jughead shook his head. "Whatever happened with him I think I keep remembering it wrong. Sometimes he took off way before everything. Sometimes he's there. Sometimes I'm struggling against him sometimes it's Jason... I don't know. I don't know!" Jughead let out an explosive breath, Archie saw him hunching over in the bed, grabbing his head in frustration.

"Hey it's ok," Archie said, he wanted to reach out, show Jughead he was there by touching him but knew how weird Jughead could be about touching. Him being there in the same room, just listening quietly, would be enough. "We'll get to the bottom of this, ok? You and me."

"Yeah," Jughead said, he sounded grateful. "Thanks."

"Have you spoken to Reggie? Has he said anything to you?"

Jughead shook his head. "He's been avoiding me. And I've been avoiding him too, I guess. But you heard him that day in school... why would he say that if he didn't at least suspect something? All that dead body shit? He was as good as telling me he knew about the photos."

"I think maybe we should talk to him."

Jughead gave a derisive snort. "Good luck with that," he muttered.

"No I mean it," Archie insisted. "We need to know what he knows, if anything-- if he's planning on telling anyone."

Jughead was quiet for a moment before saying, "I _was_ going to tell someone. I just... needed to get it straight in my head first."

"I believe you." It seemed important to Jughead that Archie told him that.

They sat together in that dark motel room that held so many memories from their childhood. Their secrets were out now and hanging between them like this veil. They'd seen so much that summer, the both of them, they'd been through too much.

"Hey what time is it?" Jughead said suddenly. "I feel like I've been talking for hours."

Archie glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table. It was coming on to three in the morning. It'd been almost twenty four hours since either of them had slept but Archie had never felt further from sleep than he did at that moment.

"You hungry?" he asked instead.

"Starving," Jughead said emphatically. It seemed that for now, their conversation had come to an end.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah don't try and fact check these roadside attractions, or the geographical locations of any of this fic for that matter. I made it all up.

They found an all night diner, ordered coffee and eggs. By now Archie had surpassed the point of tired, gotten to that strange state of existence where he could’t be sure if he felt the most alive he ever had or was already halfway dead. He saw the world from behind a caffeinated, dry eyed haze.

Jughead was very quiet as he speared his eggs with a fork, chewing slowly, thoughtfully. It seemed he didn’t feel much like talking now. Archie didn’t either, his brain felt clogged with the story Jughead had just told him, was still absorbing the majority of it.

Archie stared out the window as dawn slowly started breaking. It was the second dawn he’d witnessed in as many days. The second dawn he’d seen on the wrong end of a sleepless night. The new day didn't feel so fresh when you were still carrying the weight of yesterday on your back.

“Jughead I’m gonna have to get some sleep,” he confessed. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Jughead nodded as he sipped his coffee.

“I’ll drive, you can sleep."

They’d agreed unanimously that they weren’t going straight back to Riverdale. While they both knew it was something they were going to have to do soon, neither of them was quite ready to face the music just yet. The damage had already been done and whatever fate was waiting for them back home would still be there no matter.

They wanted one more day of freedom, they figured they deserved at least that.

When they went to pay up at the motel there was a different girl at the desk finishing up the night shift. She asked if they'd enjoyed their stay, wished them a good day and handed them some flyers of nearby attractions along with their statement.

Jughead sifted through the flyers as they made their way to the car.

"The world's second largest chair," he read aloud. "Standing at 33 foot by 15 foot it once held the crown of being the world's largest chair for almost ten years before a larger one was built in West Texas in 92. Only four hours drive away." Jughead looked at Archie. "We've got to go."

"Really?" Archie looked at him sceptically as he slid down into the passenger seat, adjusted the backrest until he was as close to lying down as he could get.

"It's a must. Archie we would never be able to live with ourselves if we passed up the opportunity to see the world's second largest chair."

"Fine," Archie said, closing his eyes. "Wake me when we get there." He used his jacket as a blanket and hunkered down as Jughead hit the gas, pulled out of the parking lot and onto the open road.

Some time later, Archie and Jughead were standing side by side on the seat of the world's second largest chair.

It wasn't an excageration; it was massive. Made of giant concrete slabs and steel girder legs and arms it felt even bigger when they were on top of it.

Jughead walked to the edge and peered down. Technically you weren't meant to actually climb on the chair, there were barriers and polite signs asking you to 'please look but do not sit' plastered all over the base. Jughead had hopped the barrier announcing with heavy irony that he lived for danger and Archie had followed, the both of them shimmying up a leg each and struggling onto the concrete seat.

Now they were up there, it felt like they had to stay up there to make it worth it.

"You know the world's largest hamster wheel is only a day's drive away," Jughead glanced over his shoulder at Archie.

"Maybe next time," Archie said. He stepped up next to Jughead then sat down, dangling his legs over the edge. He felt like he could see for miles; but all that was out there was corn fields and strip malls. A whole lot of nothing. Jughead sat down next to him, close enough to be companiable but not enough to touch.

"What're you thinking?" Jughead asked.

"About home," Archie admitted.

"Yeah." Jughead sighed. "Me too. What do you think will happen when we go back?"

Archie shrugged, scrubbed at a patch of graffiti etched into the concrete 'GM LUVS AB 2001' he wondered who GM and AB were, whether they were still together or if their small act of vandalism on top of what was once the world's largest chair was just a memory of a past the two of them chose not to think about.

"Well I'll probably get expelled for one thing," he said.

Jughead snorted, stopped when he realised Archie was serious. "Archie, what the hell?"

"Everyone will know about me and Geraldine now. I'm just trying to be realistic here, Jug."

Jughead squinted hard at Archie like he couldn't believe what he was hearing then his expression changed to something severe. "She told you that, didn't she?"

Archie tried not to squirm under Jughead's gaze, reminded himself he wasn't a guilty kid.

"You know that's not true, right Archie? What she told you was complete bullshit to try and protect herself." Jughead's expression reminded him of Sherrif Keller, sadness mixed with anger. It rubbed him the wrong way, he was sick of people acting like Geraldine was something that _happened_ to him.  She hadn't taken advantage of him; he had autonomy in this, he'd made his own choices.

"It's not like that, Jug, it's not like what happened to you. Geraldine didn't do anything to me, we did it together."

" _Ms. Grundy_ is an adult, Archie. She's our teacher!"

"You know if this had been just a couple years later it would've been completely legal. What difference does a couple years make?"

"Archie that's." Jughead shook his head, gave a disblieving laugh. "Do you honestly think she feels the same way about you as you do about her?"

Archie didn't answer. He thought about Geraldine and how lately he felt like he'd been fighting tooth and nail just to see her, coming up with any excuse under the sun so they could talk. How sometimes she looked at him like he was just this annoyance, a stray dog she'd fed some scraps once and now wouldn't leave her alone. It didn't make him feel good. But that was because of the rest of the world, she was afraid of what would happen to her-- to both of them. That was what Jughead didn't understand. Maybe if he'd seen them over the summer when it had been just the two of them...

"This is stupid," Archie said, climbed to his feet. He started pacing around the giant seat, looking for a way down, the way they came up didn't look so accessible from this angle. "Why did we even come up here?" he snapped.

Jughead watched him pace then with a sigh climbed to his feet and led the way to a corner of the chair where there looked to be some small foot holes cut into the side. Once Jughead had started clambering down Archie followed. He marched for the car as soon as his feet hit dirt, shooting Jughead an impatient look.

"Let's just go," he said.

Jughead looked like he wanted to say something, but wisely stayed quiet, instead he unlocked the car and the both of them climbed in, this time with Archie behind the wheel.

They'd been driving for a half hour before either of them broke the tense silence that had fallen. It was Jughead.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't talk about what you don't know," Archie's fingers tightened around the wheel as he stared ahead.

"I'm just trying to look out for you."

"You don't need to."

Jughead looked pained, but he nodded. "Alright," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Ok," Archie said quietly.

"Ok." Jughead glanced at him. "Could we just get back to being friends again? Please?"

The small plea softened Archie, took the edge off his anger and he reached for the flyers that Jughead had tossed onto the dashboard, dropped them into Jughead's lap. "Find somewhere else we can go to," he said by way of an olive branch. "But not too far away."

"So no giant hamster wheel?"

Archie smiled despite himself. "Not this time."

*

Archie drove and Jughead directed. Wherever they were headed, Jughead refused to let Archie in on the secret, only promised it wasn't far and would totally be worth it. For a while, Archie was concerned that Jughead had decided to hell with it and they were headed for the hamster wheel after all.

Then he saw it.

"Holy shit," he said.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Jughead said and he sounded gleeful. "I feel like I've died and gone to heaven."

There on the horizon was the biggest burger Archie had ever seen in his life. There was no doubting it was the world's largest burger.

"I can't believe this has been on our doorsteps this whole time and we've never gone," said Jughead.

It wasn't real, of course. It was made out of fibreglass but regardless it was still an impressive sight. It had to be at least thirty feet tall and it sat there on the horizon like a second sun, its bright yellow bun almost glowing.

They pulled up alongside it. There was literally nothing else out there, no gift shop, no refreshments, no gas. Just them and the giant burger.

Archie pulled out his phone, took a few selfies but it just looked like the two of them against a yellow background.

"Strike a pose!" Archie called as he started jogging back far enough that he could get the full burger in frame. Jughead was just a small smudge in the bottom of the picture by that point but you could still tell from the beanie that it was him. He kept snapping as Jughead adopted more and more ridiculous poses, laughing.

His phone vibrated, he paused, seeing the notifications of an alarming amount of messages and missed calls. Right. He'd forgotten about that.

The feeling of dread returned and his stomach lurched and twisted like he'd dropped at least ten feet. For a second there he'd felt like just another teen out on an adventure with his best friend.

He opened the last text message from his father, didn't dare scroll up. *Archie call me. Please, son*

"What's wrong?" Jughead asked as he was jogging over. He slowed when he saw Archie looking at his phone. "Oh," he said, voice heavy with realisation. "We're going to have to go back, aren't we." It wasn't a question.

Archie pocketed his phone again, mouth a grim line. He didn't feel ready. he didn't think he would ever feel ready.

"Hey." Jughead grabbed his arm, squeezed comfortingly. "We're doing this together, right?"

"Together." He nodded.

Jughead smiled. "I got you, pal. Always have."

Archie looked at him, brown eyes meeting blue. "Always," he agreed.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is. I was in two minds about what to do with this fic - whether to make it an epic multi chapter monster or to try and contain it as a series of shorter stories. In the end I decided on the latter, it felt neater and this way gives me more control. I feel like sometimes those epic fics can lose their direction and I didn't want to lose sight of the wood for the trees here ja feel? Just know that this is not the end, far from it actually. There's a lot more I'm planning on covering. A LOT more. Keep an eye out for the next instalment which will cover what will happen when our two dumbs finally get home, just what _does_ Reggie know from that night, and Archie finds out some real ugly truths about Grundy (someone save our boy from this predator please).
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this, especially to the wonderful people who have been generous enough to give feedback and encouragement. It's always hard putting your writing out there and knowing it's not just going out into the void really, really helps. Thanks guys!


End file.
